No Regrets
by TheFifthCharmedOne
Summary: Just what went through Petunia Dursley's mind when she opened the door and found her nephew on the doorstep? How did she decide to take him in? - 'Letters,' Petunia thought irreverently. Didn't wizards know the magic of a telephone? -


No Regrets

By: TheFifthCharmedOne

Disclaimer: Just what went through Petunia Dursley's mind when she opened the door and found her nephew on the doorstep? How did she decide to take him in? - 'Letters,' Petunia thought irreverently. Didn't wizards know the magic of a telephone? -

Written for: the "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone Competition" on HPFC.

Prompt: The Letters from No One - Write about a letter sent from one character to another character.

* * *

Petunia Dursley never expected to see her infant nephew on her doorstep on the morning of November 1, 1981. All she planned to do was place the milk bottles out for the milkman to collect - not to have her life upheaved and turned upside down, courtesy of her estranged sister's son.

The scream that came from her mouth made birds fly away and Vernon Dursley hurriedly come to his wife's aid.

"V-Vernon!" Was all she could gasp out, her eyes nearly too wide for her thin, long face. "O-Oh, no!" she wailed. "N-No...not...not _her _boy."

Vernon carefully picked up the infant. As soon as he was moved, baby Harry Potter's eyes opened. And he promptly began to cry, upon seeing Vernon's beefy face and nonexistent neck, rather than his mother's kind gaze or his father's happy grin.

"Shush!" Vernon hissed, spittle flying forward at the child. This only made Harry cry harder.

Petunia took the child away from Vernon. The bawling ceased, yet tears still remained in his large, innocent green eyes. _Eyes like Lily..._Petunia thought, mentioning the name for the first time in years. _Hair like James..._She noticed the black mop right away.

"There's a letter," Vernon grunted, gesturing to the floor, where the letter had fallen when Vernon had picked Harry off of the ground.

It was addressed to her.

_Mrs. Petunia Dursley_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

_Letters,_ Petunia thought irreverently. Didn't wizards know the magic of a telephone?

"He'll have to be fed," Petunia found herself saying. Vernon stared at her, scandalized. "You can't expect me to let him starve, can you?"

"I could take him to the orphanage on my way to the office," Vernon said gruffly, clearly not happy with the idea of his nephew eating anything that they had in their home. "They'd feed him there-"

"No!" Petunia said vehemently. Why, she wasn't sure, but Vernon seemed quite ruffled by it. His wife never disagreed with him. Not that their relationship was abusive, by any stretch, yet this response from the woman was unexpected, and in Vernon's eyes, uncalled for. Why not just get rid of the boy before he became a nuisance? "I want to at least read the letter. Something must have happened to them, for him to be here." She said softly, and Vernon's shoulders sank. He knew his wife had a good heart, one of the reasons he loved her.

"Fine. I'll be home around six." He pecked her on the cheek and walked out. Petunia knew Dudley wouldn't wake up for a few more hours - he was a deep sleeper, blessed child - so she carried Harry and the letter into their sitting room. She sat Harry, after taking away his blankets, on the sofa. He promptly began to gnaw on his pudgy hands. The fact that he was a little over one year old meant that he had teeth and could sit up and walk, like Dudley.

Though Petunia knew that this boy, her sister's son, was nothing like Dudley in any other way.

With shaking hands, she opened the letter.

_Dear Mrs. Dursley,_

_I wish to inform you of some tragic news. Your sister, Lily Evans Potter, and her husband, James, have just been murdered by the Dark Lord Voldemort. He is the darkest and most dangerous wizard we have ever known in our world, and he targeted the family for a reason we do not yet know. How Harry survived is another mystery, though I have my suspicions. _

_Nevertheless, I am writing to you for two reasons. To inform you of your sister's death, but also of your role in Harry's new life. You see, as his mother's sister, you have her blood running in your veins, which shields you, your husband, your son, and Harry from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, His servants. With this powerful magic, you are the only one that can protect Harry fully and completely, as your normalcy and hatred of all things magical will cloak him. _

_I fully understand that you dislike magic and everything it stands for, however, it is a part of Harry. I hope that when he is older, you will take the time to explain his heritage to him. His parents, their hopes for him, Hogwarts, everything. _

_Please, I beg of you. Take Harry and raise him as your own. I know that it is asking quite a lot, but it is absolutely imperative that you do so, for his safety as well as your own. _

_Sincerely and with deepest sympathies,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

It took about ten different scans of the letter before Petunia could fully comprehend it.

Take Harry in? Raise her sister's son as her own? She already had a son! A beautiful, wonderful son who she loved more than anything! How could this wizard - Dumbledore - expect this of her? Just because she was Lily's sister - didn't the boy have any other family? What about James's family? Was there no one else?

Petunia looked over at Harry, who looked back at her curiously, blinking owlishly. His wide green eyes reminded her of Lily, and she had a brief flash of what those eyes must look like now. Empty and unseeing, because their owner was dead.

_Lily is dead. _Though she and her sister had not been on speaking terms in quite some time, she had always had a younger sister, at least for as long as she could remember. The fact that she was now completely sister-less, that Harry was parentless, broke her heart.

She knew Vernon would disagree with her, but Petunia felt that she had to do this. If not for Harry, then for her own peace of mind.

The mere idea of sending him off to an orphanage was unfathomable. She hated to admit that she was not normal, by association with Lily - but no _regular_ person could handle him. As normal as she and Vernon tried to be, and as they were, she liked to believe, the ghosts of Petunia's past always haunted her. Her jealousy of her sister's powers had only festered over the years, and had caused the rift between them. However, despite her anger and hatred, she could not simply bring herself to send Lily's only child away somewhere. Dumbledore had chosen her to protect him. Did she owe anything to Lily? No, of course not, she rationalized. However, she did owe something to herself. Could she raise Harry the right way? Could she really? And what was the right way, anyway? Dudley was temperamental, but he was a good, angelic baby boy. She had no idea what to expect with Harry.

* * *

"Keep him? _Keep _him?" Vernon exploded, staring at his wife incredulously. "You can't be serious, Petunia! He's one of _their _kind!" He shook his dinner fork toward the ceiling for emphasis.

"That's true, but he's only a baby, Vernon. And the letter said that-"

"Sod the letter!" Vernon bellowed. "We're taking him to an orphanage!"

"NO!" Petunia screamed back. She and Vernon never fought, but she knew in her heart that if she did what he wanted, she would never forgive herself. Lily was her sister, after all.

Vernon sat back, surprised at how passionate his wife was about this whole thing. Yet, he supposed, if he were in her shoes...he shuddered. He could never try to understand what it must have been like to have a freak in her family.

"Fine then," Vernon said finally. "We'll just beat it out of him. The letter didn't say we had to treat him perfectly, did it?"

"No, just that we have to raise him." Petunia replied. _Beat out the magic? Is it possible? _She wondered.

"Good, then. We'll raise him. Feed him, give him Dudley's old clothes. Bathe him..." Vernon drifted off. Petunia knew that he would never accept Harry as a second son, but at least he was agreeing to let him stay. It was a start.

* * *

For the following sixteen years, Petunia watched Harry grow. The worm of jealousy slithered through her heart and stomach when his letters came - she had never been lucky enough for them - but when the blood protection expired, she couldn't bring herself to wish him luck on his quest.

_Lily always did tell me that things happened for a reason. Maybe it was meant to be, after all. He was never my son, but he was my sister's son, through and through. _She saw Lily in him everyday, not just because he was magical, but because of the modesty in his voice, the curiosity of his gaze. Yes, he was most definitely Lily's son.

While she knew that she could have treated him better, Petunia had done her best in his mother's stead, with the circumstances of her husband and son being quite brutish, so, years later, when Petunia Dursley closed her eyes for the final time, she had absolutely no regrets.

* * *

A/N: My God, this was literally one of the most interesting things I've written to date. I just started rereading Sorcerer's Stone, and the inspiration just flooded me. Hope you enjoyed, please review!

-Charmy


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